PLAN B
by dante de cervantes
Summary: CHAPTER 7 is finally here! Dance time! When Olivia asks ‘Sebastian’ out to a costume party, she never thought he’d even think about refusing her. To diminish that possibility, Olivia has a Plan B. OliviaViola.
1. A Very Long Engagement

**TITLE:** PLAN B

**CHAPTER**: A Very Long Engagement

**FANDOM:** She's the Man

**RATING:** T

**PAIRING:** Olivia/Viola

**SUMMARY:** When Olivia asks 'Sebastian' out to a costume party, she never thought he'd even think about refusing her. To diminish that possibility, Olivia has a Plan B.

**Disclaimer**: Characters aren't mine. But this story is. Yehey!

**Notes:**

I've changed the storyline a little. The whole carnival thing didn't happen in this one and neither did that Debutant luncheon. Well, hope you guys enjoy. If you don't like this kind of stuff, please save your time, don't read. Go read about gay heterosexuals for all I care.

**PLAN B**

**CHAPTER 1**

Third period, Biology. Usually, many things go on ahead in your head during this time of day but one thing in particular has been bothering you for the past three classes. In your book, that's awfully a lot of time to waste on thoughts. The thought exactly?

You wonder why your lab partner, your **gorgeous** lab partner, hasn't tried _anything_ with you yet. It was funny how you still had your hopes up for the 'yet' part.

Ever since junior high, guys were naturally all over you. They all tried to be subtle and all, but you always saw right through them. And Malcolm… Where do you start? The jerk really freaks you out. He was like, the epitome of 'psycho-stalker'. You swear, every time he comes toward you, you hear the Jaws score playing. _Tuntun-tuntun_.

You look at Malcolm through the corner of your eye.

Yep, the fag was looking at you.

Then you turn your attention to _him._

He was trying to look at something other than the humongous frog on the pan that the both of you had to dissect.

He's so surprisingly cute.

You couldn't hold it in anymore by the sight of his round orbs, panicky. You had to do this. You wanted him so much.

"Sebastian?"

"_Yeah?—" _he quickly clears his throat "—**YEAH?**"

You also found it funny how he tries to make his voice seem deeper. You try to suppress a smile.

"Have you heard about that dance on Friday?" you try to bring up casually.

"That costume party thing?" he answers, picking up a knife. The both of you were going to dissect a frog today. But you have a very strong feeling that you were going to do all the cutting before the bell rings. You can already see a slight sneer of disgust form on his mouth.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, I was wondering…"

God, you wonder why you even hesitate. You mean, you were going to do this, weren't you? So might as well do it, sure as hell.

"Uhuh?" he lets out while poking the frog with the blunt side of the knife.

"Well, I was wondering if we could go together…"

There, you let it all out now. No turning back now.

He freezes and you meet his blue-green gaze. He looks so surprised. So cute.

"Together?" he repeats, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Now, that doesn't look so good for you.

Then you start to think: _Maybe he doesn't want to go together. Maybe_— No! Your dignity, girl!

Live it up!

So you do the only thing you think you could: PLAN B aka the 'Go-as-friends-line-so-there's-at-least-a-possibility-that-he'll-go-with-you-since-"it's-just-as-friends"-and-you'll-deal-with-it-even-if-you'll-only-have-him-halfway' plan. Yes, you were desperate enough to even consider that. Usually, you don't because you know that guys would've already asked you by then.

But this was completely different. He was completely different. He was _Sebastian_.

"I mean as friends." You manage to stutter out. Wow, did it hurt to actually say it.

And before you realize it, you couldn't breathe anymore, waiting for his answer. Seriously, if he still turns you down. You wouldn't know what to do. You always wondered what happened to Eunice before people could actually start to _hear_ her breathing, but you figure that maybe she was like that all along…

You notice that his eyes start to dart around a little. Like, he was trying to look for someone. Then they finally land somewhere to your left. You follow his gaze, curious to whom he was looking for that he had to divide his attention between you and said subject.

Your head slowly, fearing that what you'd find out would be heartbreaking, that maybe he had someone else in my mind that he wanted to ask. When you finally turn ninety degrees, you find… Eunice.

Eunice? How could he want Eunice? She was practically all over her jock lab partner—

"—Duke…"

Your head snaps back to Sebastian, who was still eyeing them.

Woah, you totally spaced out back there. He's talking to you, get a grip.

"Excuse me?"

He lets out a big breath before turning to you, looking real uncertain.

Then he totally shocks you by saying, "I was going to ask you if you'd go out with Duke…"

My God, is he serious?

"Duke?" you accidentally let out. You wish that you could've kept your mouth shut.

"Yeah, Duke! Why? What's wrong?" he asks, a little worried.

It took every fiber of your being to not stand up and shout, "God, Sebastian! I just flat-out ask **YOU**!! Incase you didn't notice!!" to his face. You were almost going to forget absolutely everything you learned as a Junior League Debutant.

But losing your cool isn't very Olivia Lennox. Olivia was losing everything right now except her cool. Her mind was one of those things. And evidence of that is the next word that's going to come out of her mouth.

"Orsino?"

You didn't know why _that_ was the only thing you could say. You knew Duke. Everyone knew Duke, why were you suddenly becoming a dumbass?

"Yeah. Captain of the soccer team. School Stud Muffin. That Duke." He mumbles, discreetly pointing at Duke with his scalpel.

"Oh…"

What is it now? Have you totally lost your ability to speak whole sentences? Where did your social skills go when you oh-so badly need them??

He leans forward until you can actually smell him. And his aftershave was a little… fruity. Or maybe you were exaggerating it. But he smells really nice, regardless.

"He really likes you, you know." He whispers, his eyes piercing you. Your breath catches in your throat. It was becoming harder to breathe again.

"I don't know…" you trail, dropping your head. You couldn't handle his searching gaze any longer. You needed to breathe for God's sake!

"Don't tell me that you don't find him remotely attractive?" he asks again.

Why did this get more complicated than you expected it to be? Why did he have to bring Duke into the picture?

You swivel your chair to the left and look Duke Orsino up and down. You didn't even have to do a retake. No, Duke Orsino was nothing like the guy sitting in front of you. And a guy, it seems, that you'd do anything for, including the possible humiliation of yourself by getting real close to going down on your knees to make him come to that dance with you.

You hope to hell that it doesn't have to come to that.

"C'mon, he's a really nice guy." He tries to coax.

"No." you let out flatly.

"C'mon."

"No."

"C'mon!"

"No." you shake your head.

"Come on Olivia!"

Hearing him say your name sent shivers down your spine. Then you were sure, you definitely don't want anybody else saying 'Olivia' like that.

You don't know where your guts came from but you looked him in the eye and said:

"I **won't **go with Duke."

Then you could tell that he decided to drop it. His face, undertones of disappointment apparent on it, how could that still break your heart?

Holding his gaze, you say, "Besides, I asked **you**."

Then you shyly look away, fluttering your lashes.

Another stroke of impulsiveness with a hint of 'flirt' in it! Where the _hell _did that come from?

Your subconscious was persistent with this thing. Then you decided that you wouldn't be walking out of Biology, empty-handed. You were going to have Sebastian as a date. So you were pretty much okay with whatever you were going to do, as long as it gets him to say yes.

_You picture yourself in a cute white dress, with charming little wings, and a ring of halo hovering above your head. Then you picture him, in whatever he was going to wear, all you know is that he's going to look as endearing as he always does. The night is spent with your arms around his neck and his hands on your waist and by the end of it, your lips on his._

You didn't even know that you wanted it this much.

"Look, I promise to have one dance with Duke."

He suddenly perks up at that. "Really? That'd be great!"

Seriously, it was cute the way he almost wants to jump out of his seat.

You were so sorry that you had to drop a bombshell.

"On one condition." You ready yourself for another one of those insane ultimatum lines.

"And that is?" the blue-green looks like a sea in summer, twinkling with curiosity.

This is it. Get your game on, Lennox.

"That I get to have you for the rest of the night." You deliver casually. Well, at least you hope it went out 'casually'.

You don't know where you come up with the stuff. Seriously, you can easily get an acting role with that kind of improvisation.

You're so surprised with yourself right now that you almost didn't notice how high his eyebrows shot up. And boy, when you mean up, you mean **up**.

His lack of response made you panic. For a moment there, you felt like running out of the room and dig up a hole behind and tree and just die there.

And you had no idea why you chose to look at him again, despite the desperation of your situation.

"I'll… I'll think about it…" he says slowly.

Then a bell goes off in your head. 'I'll think about it' is ringing inside it, over and over again.

When he jumps out of his chair and slings his bag over his shoulder, you realize that the school bell did indeed ring and that it wasn't all in your head. You see his mouth form a quick 'bye' and he jogs the hell out of the room.

And you're left there, in your swivel chair, mouth slightly open. Swiveling... swiveling?

You have never been rejected before. But 'I'll think about it' sounded like a very bad prelude.

**Reviews, critiques, are very much welcome. Thanks for reading. I'll post the next chapter real soon. Faster, if you guys review…)**


	2. Duke, Dude!

**TITLE:** PLAN B

**CHAPTER**: Duke, Dude!

**FANDOM:** She's the Man

**RATING:** T

**PAIRING:** Olivia/Viola

**Disclaimer:** They're still not mine!

**Author's Note: **Okay, so this is another POV. Thanks to all those who reviewed. Really appreciate it! Hope you enjoy this chapter. I guess this is longer than the first. So here it is!

**PLAN B**

**CHAPTER 2**

Okay, Olivia Lennox just asked you out. Well, technically she asked your brother… but he wasn't the one who had to sit through the whole 'asking' process. He wasn't the one that had to decide. And plus the fact that he wasn't exactly here to go with her in the first place. That lucky—

But then you remember that you got yourself into this whole mess. You honestly had no idea how much harm dressing up like your brother could amount to. At first, it was kinda amusing how you got yourself in sticky situations but crap, they just keep on getting harder to get out of.

Now you have another problem in your hands. The ironic thing is, it's supposed to be Sebastian's. The _real _Sebastian.

You couldn't believe it, Olivia asked you out. But just as friends. Yeah, innocent as it sounds, you still have to tell Duke about it. See, if he found out from any other source other than you, that you were going to that dance on Friday (even if it's just as friends). Well, you could just kiss that opening game on Saturday goodbye.

Your phone rings and you make a mental note to change your ringing tone. People are getting a little freaked out when they see you pull out your phone when 'I'm a Barbie Girl' starts playing.

You check your phone and an unregistered number appears. Who the—

"Hello?" you answer.

"Vi, is that you?"

It's your brother. How nice of him to call. You can only wonder what for.

"Um, yeah. It's me." You say in— _still_ in "his" voice.

"Look, I lost my phone before I got out of the plane. I know, I'm pretty freaked. I'm using those red phone booths now you know. Only here in London." He laughs at it a while. "And well, you were the only one I could call because—"

"—my number is the only one you remember." You finished for him. It was a twin thing.

"Right… You sound weird." He notices.

"Nah, I have a cold—runny nose, you know." You cough a little for emphasis.

"Oh…"

Yeah, go figure. You could never expect Sebastian to say 'Get well soon' even if you were sick with pneumonia.

"Anyway, London's great! The crowd here just loves us! They're crazy for my lyrics! They even asked for an acoustic version for one of my songs! It's unbelievable, Vi! A producer there called us 'Some awesome blokes'! Man, wish you could be here to see this. It's unbelievable!"

You were glad for him, you really believe that he could make it in the music industry. It got you excited that he was this excited. You were twins, you couldn't help it. It's nice to know that one of you is getting some action in the 'reach your impossible dream' department.

"That's great. Yeah, I wish I could be there." You say sincerely, adding, "I'm proud to be your better half" as an afterthought.

"So how are things there? Did Illyria buy the Mad Cow excuse?" he asks.

Seriously, _he asks_.

Duh, Sebastian. Of course they didn't because your smart-ass sister (your better half) had the brains to not use that as an excuse.

She also has the brains to dress up like you Sebastian, just to join the buy's soccer team in Illyria. So she thinks that she doesn't trust herself with her own brains right now. Especially after a girl who thought she was you asked her out. Now your sister (who's dressed like you by the way) has to figure out how to work it out with your room mate who she has been sharing a room with for the past week because said room mate was totally into the girl who asked your better half.

Could Sebastian get that? Cause' you yourself, sorta… didn't.

"Let's just say that I've got things taken care of. Don't worry about a thing." You hope to God that you were going to be able to continue taking care of things. From how it looks now, things aren't going to look any better.

"Great, great. Look, I'm pretty broke right now. I lost my wallet too…"

_God, Sebastian. What exactly did you lose?_

You had a feeling that it was his pants.

"…even spent an hour playing on the street and I found out that people actually throw money in guitar cases! That's totally cool. So this is like the last handful of change I'm going to spend for a phone call. Cause' London is cold and my fingers are starting to kill me and I can't go on like that forever."

Wow, London must really be fun. The place just brings the best out of Sebastian, getting his fingers all calloused and icky.

"I'll try to get back Friday night. But pretty much, it'll be Saturday til' I see your ugly face again." He laughs at the other end.

"I hope you get locked in that phone booth." You say spitefully.

"Thanks, but I don't see that happening—"

And then it ended like that. You figured that he must've run out of coins or something because he got cut. You flip your phone shut and you realize that you've already reached room 234.

The conversation with Duke, you had no idea on how you were going to handle it. Oh, well. Anything you can think of and just go with it. Pray to God that all works well. Even though it usually doesn't work but you were raised a catholic, recognize!

Fumbling around for the keys a bit, you open the door to find your roommate sleeping snugly on his Calculus book. You didn't want to wake him or anything, but this was Olivia, and as much as waking him up makes him angry, keeping things concerning Olivia from him makes him angrier.

Well, you were just going to expect a lot more of that from that moment on.

You take a big breath and let it out loudly.

He's still asleep.

Just do it.

So you do.

"What's up my homie?!" you say (rather loudly) in his ear.

His head immediately flings up while blurting out "I don't wanna go to school yet!"

"Piece of advice man. If you want to pass Calculus, drooling all over your homework ain't the way to go." You say with a smirk on your face as he wipes some drool off his face.

Man, Duke could be funny sometimes. A little cute too. God, what are you thinking? You had a conversation to talk about.

"Uhh… Duke?"

"Yeah, man?" he says, rubbing his eyes.

"I've got news." You start.

"What about?" he yawns.

"That party on Friday, the costume one?"

"Yeah?" he looks wide awake by now.

This was totally going to be so bittersweet for him.

"Well, Miss Lennox has agreed to dance with you that night." You announce smoothly. Then you give him time to let it sink in, and time to jump around all over the room and time to let him annoy you by shoving your own tie to your face.

"I've-got-a-date-with-Olivi—Yah!!" he mumbles in singsong. You're suddenly reminded of a monkey you've seen in a zoo when you were a kid. Wait, that was just Sebastian as he made faces at the penguins.

You hate to spoil his party. But you had to, There are enough lies as it is.

"Woah there, cowboy! The thing is. . ."

He stops bouncing on the bed. Man, this was like telling a five-year-old that his dog just died. You actually did that once. Sebastian didn't talk to you for weeks because you forgot to put Gunther (his bulldog) on a leash and the poor thing got hit by a pick-up. Those were some sad weeks of your little, five-year-old life now that you think about it.

"Duke, she only agreed to ONE dance."

"One?" he lets out, obviously surprised.

"C'mon Duke, give me some credit here. You don't know what I had to go through to get you that one dance-date." you sort of whine. Panicking that any moment, he might get up and punch you.

"Whatexactly_ did_ you go through?" he asks, his head down.

"Look…" deep intake of breath. "…she'll only dance with you if she can have me as a date for the rest of the night." You say quickly in one breath.

His head snaps back up and looks at you in disbelief. "What?"

This was proving to be quite turbulent. "It's just as friends Duke, I swear. I mean, she caught me off-guard with it too. I didn't even answer her. I figured I should ask you first."

It scares the shit out of you that he isn't saying anything. He's just standing there. Talk to me, man!

"So Duke, still want that dance? Cause I can tell Olivia that I have Mad Cow on Friday night so I can't go…" You say, sort of, seriously. Even though you were scared and stuff…

Then Duke tried to suppress a burst of laughter, so it ended out as a snort. "Man…" he shakes his head, like he was trying to clear his head.

"Hey, I could ask the DJ to play a really slow and _really long_ song when the two of you er— hit it off or something."

The things that came out of your mouth.

"You can lay some groundwork. You'll actually get a chance to talk to her. Then I'll make sure other guys don't go near her after." You were babbling, anything that came to your head, immediately went straight out of your mouth, screwing the 'filter the words that you're going to say' tact method!

"I can't talk to girls." He says suddenly, like he just remembered.

"I **can't** talk to girls." He repeats and looks at you. You could see panic on fire in his eyes.

"What do you mean you can't talk to girls? You talk to me—uh—en. You talk to men!" You stutter. He almost had you there. You were supposed to be Sebastian right now.

He gives you a weird look. He probably thinks you're some retard. Hell, maybe you are.

"Of course, I talk to men…"

"Sure you do." You affirm, nodding your head vigorously.

"… it's just that. Girls are different. I don't know what to say around them. I'm afraid I'll say something stupid." He says, slightly embarrassed.

Wow. Here you thought Duke was such a hotshot guy, great with the ladies, the charming sweet-talker. But now you find out that he can't even open his mouth and talk to one.

"Don't you even talk to Eunice?" you bring up, thinking maybe he talks to his lab partner.

You immediately regret asking when he just gives you an 'are-you-crazy?' look that immediately meant NO.

"Okay, so. . .?" you quirk an eyebrow warily.

"So I need your help." He suddenly declares. "I saw all those girls at Cesario's and you were like Cassablanca or something."

"Cassanova." You correct quickly.

"Cassanova. Yeah, whatever. But you just… You knew what to do, man! They were like all over you." He mumbles, throwing his arms around at the 'all over you' part.

Wow. You and Paul really fooled them with that Plan at Social Ascent. You thanked God that you don't have to pay Paul for all of this ingenuity. If you had to, you swear you'd be broke right now. This reminds you that you should call him later and ask for more ingenuity, for more help on this party thing. You didn't want to end up like a total loser.

"Oh…" Funny how it was the only safe thing to say right now.

"Kay?" his eyebrows raised in a hopeful way.

"Yeah. Okay." You hear yourself say even though you have no idea on how to give a crash course in 'guy-girl' talk.

"So, uhhh.. How do I talk to girls?"

He wants a lesson now? When you were completely unprepared for it? Well, you guess that you could just tell him anything you knew about it, not really caring if it was going to benefit him or not. He asked for your help, right? It doesn't mean that your help has to like… help or anything…

"You talk about anything. Anything that comes to your mind."

"Anything?" he asks like he didn't even hear it the first time.

"Anything." You confirm like he didn't hear you the first time.

Then a crazy idea pops into your head.

"Hey! Why don't we try a…" you dramatically jump onto your bed and finger-quote, "_Simulated Conversation._"

"It's where we try to have a normal conversation. You'll be the boy and I'll be the girl."

"What?" Duke asks, obviously flustered by your teaching methods.

What you did next almost made him faint. Seriously, like when Shaggy in Scooby Doo sees a ghost or something.

"Hello Duke, I'm Viola, Sebastian's sister." You say in _your _own voice, initiating simulated conversation mode.

"Woah! What the hell? You just sounded like a girl just then!" he freaks out. He turns around and rubs his brow, his shoulders shaking, probably from laughing.

"I can't. Do this." He lets out between sniggers.

You get off the bed and spun him around, making him look at you.

"Look, I used to imitate my sister's voice just to annoy her and I got pretty good at it. So why don't we put my talents to good use?" You explain. It's nice making stories up on the dot. The lies…

He still looks freaked. But he buys the story. Now, back to business.

"C'mon, ask me about anything." You order.

"What about?" It frustrated you how difficult Duke was being.

"Ask me if I like cheese." Why cheese? You don't know. But it went out of your mouth, now you have to work with it.

"Cheese? Okay… Do you— uh— like cheese?" he says, trying to suppress more laughter.

"Well, in fact I do. My favorite's gouda!" you say in a perky, not-really-Viola way.

And then he really laughs. After college, and if your football career somehow didn't take off, you were seriously considering stand-up comedy.

"See, you're doing it. We're flowing!" You smile at him. Satisfied with what little progress the both of you have made.

"I don't know. I mean, we're talking about cheese." He mutters, still uncertain about his performance.

"Yeah, cheese. But we've got this flow!" you exclaim, your arms and hands making circular, 'flowy' motions.

He starts laughing again and you realize what a dork you've been then _you_ start laughing. Like, the stomach-aching laughter. Ah, the happy moments of life. It surprised you that nothing really wrong has happened yet. Ah, the joys of being Catholic.

"Whatever man." he pants, trying to catch his breath.

You wonder why he suddenly looked down. You follow suit.

And you find a friggin' giant spider. A hairy gigantic spider... crawling on Duke's foot.

Cause' you were a girl and all, it'd be natural for you to scream on first instinct. So you did. But you were Sebastian right now, and he's a guy. So it'd be kinda weird to hear horrified girly screeches coming out of him.

But you scream anyway. Surprisingly, Duke does too.

He shakes the tarantula off and it flew to God knows where. Then the both of you jump onto the bed. Screaming and jumping frantically, very unlikely for two high school boys, well _one_ high school boy and a possible high school transvestite.

Your screams are magnified once again when the thing became visible again, emerging from under your bed.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! CRAP!!!!!!!! That's a HUGE SPIDER!!!!!

"Do something! Get it out!" he yells in hysterics.

"I don't know! You're the guy… I mean, the guy-lier? Guy." You answer hoping he didn't think that was suspicious. Apparently he didn't because he was still screaming his off, like you were.

The both of you jump to your bed when the spider made its way to Duke's. Both of you were unaware that you were clutching each other for dear life. When you two realize it, you immediately got the hell away from each other, like repelling magnetic poles.

You bounce off your bed and rush to the door to open it. You shout at Duke, "Get it out, Duke!"

He's still screaming on your bed and when he hears you he turns around and looks very confused, or very unwilling.

"Dude?" you say exasperated, expecting him to get it out.

"Fine!" he whines. He looks around for a second. How _was_ he going to get it out anyway? You haven't thought about it, oh well, it's his problem. No, it was yours both, whatever, you got the door open!

You race back to your bed and get yourself to higher ground. And Duke finally gets off. You were too busy keeping the door open to notice that he put a shoe on. Now you have an idea on how he was actually going to get rid of it. He was gonna kick it out, literally.

"C'mon Duke!" you cheer as he leads the spider with his foot, so it was parallel to the open door. And then… the most beautiful thing happened. He swung his leg and his foot came into contact with the spider. Then the spider, in a perfect projectile, flew out the door. It was poetry.

He shut the door immediately after. With his back to it, he tried to catch his breath. You realize that you were breathing hard too. That was...

He looks at you, "Hey, this _never_ happened." He pants.

"Right." You say slowly, the adrenaline-rush dying down.

"This never happened." He repeats, making it sure that it sort of didn't.

It was definitely going to be very hard to get any sleep tonight, seeing that there's a mad tarantula loose around Illyria.


	3. GOLDen Surprises Not Again!

**TITLE:** PLAN B

**CHAPTER**: GOLDen Surprises… Not Again!

**FANDOM:** She's the Man

**RATING:** T

**PAIRING:** Olivia/Viola

**Disclaimer:** No progress on owning them.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I'm so sorry that this took the longest time. So, I hope this is worth the wait. Enjoy this one guys.

**PLAN B**

**CHAPTER 3**

Three days before the dance and you still have no one to go with. In a regular situation, you would've already had a date as soon as the function was announced. Now, you're not even sure if you're going to go at all.

But your costume was _fine_! Not fine-fine, freakishly cute-yet-hot FINE! Like, Tyra Banks telling you _Damn gurl, you look FAH-HINE!_

Then again, what's the point of looking… fine… if he isn't going to be at that stupid dance with you to see exactly how _fine_ you look in a costume. If he wasn't going to go with you, you weren't going to feel the least bit fine.

You seriously hated the way you were dealing with this. It wasn't like he turned you down right? Yeah, he just happened to not answer you after you asked him, right Olivia.

What was wrong? Were you getting fat? Surely not. Was your hair a complete mess yesterday? You always made it a point to go to the bathroom and make sure that you looked nothing less of 'gorgeous' for Biology class. And what? Suddenly you change shampoos and your hair's instantly like crap so that cute looking boy won't say yes to you to a dance even if you asked said boy yourself.

Note to self: You are switching back to Herbal Essences. Period.

On second thought, your skirt was a little tight around the waist. Maybe you were— No! You are definitely NOT fat! You can't be if you've only been eating yoghurt and Special K with low-fat milk for the past week. You can't possibly be… You forgot, you finished the other half of Maria's box of chocolates while she wasn't looking. This whole Sebastian sort of blowing you off thing was depressing.

That explains why you were there in the bathroom right now, staring absently at your waist's reflection. You went even as far as poking your stomach (after Maria left for class early, leaving you alone in there). God! You werebloating up!

You hear the bell ring and you stop poking, you hastily reapply lip gloss and fidget with your 'wasn't Herbally Essenced' hair a bit before dashing off to class. You were going to be late for Biology… and Sebastian's going to already be there, not late, but totally über-gorgeous. And he's going to see you enter in all your late glory!

Ooohhh, the door's open, maybe they weren't starting yet. And you jumped in, like, literally… jumped. In.

"Miss Lennox! How nice of you for dropping in!"

You stopped dead in you're landing from the ridiculous jump you have just executed. You're absolutely horrified that the voice belonged to none other than Principle Horatio Gold.

You straighten yourself up, to give the impression that you SO did not jump in the room just then. But obviously, that wasn't going to work anyway. What options do you have left anyway?

"Good morning Principle Gold. I apologize for being so terribly late." You say politely, like a true Junior Leaguer. If anybody else talked like they were in a Medieval movie, they would never have the chance to talk like they were in a Medieval movie ever again, but you were a Stratford Junior League debutant, so that kind of gives you permission and an excuse to not get your ass kicked.

"Apology accepted, Miss Lennox. By the way, Olivia— it's Olivia right?— might I ask why?" he asks while taking his humongous, unfashionable glasses off and wiping them clean with his lab gown that was also coincidentally humongous and unfashionable.

Why were you late again? Because answering 'I was busy poking my stomach in the bathroom because I am this close (Pinch your thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart) to being a bulimic bi-yatch! because Sebastian is going to say no to me after I asked him to Friday night's party' wasn't such a good idea right now.

"Because judging from yours and Mr. Hastings' empty seats, the class here and I were beginning to guess just what in the world would two teenagers of the opposite sex be doing right now to be unexplainably late for their biology class."

You almost didn't understand that, since he was acting all nice and sunshine and daisies and stuff. But then you realize that he's actually a sarcastic donkey. Yep, Gold definitely being rude.

Why was 'I was busy poking my stomach in the bathroom because I am this close (Hold thumb and forefinger, a centimeter apart) to being a bulimic biyatch' sounding so much better than his little tease-fest?

All eyes were on you. You could particularly feel Duke's angry, jealous ones and Malcolm's 'Olivia-wants-to-tear-them-out' ones. Awww, crap.

"I forgot my lab gown— so I had to go back and get it." You say suddenly.

This would've been a really good one if only you actually _brought_ the lab gown that you had to go back and get. Sebastian was making you lame. And he wasn't even here! Urgh!

Principle Gold, seeming to notice that you didn't have the lab gown with you, decided to retract his claws. You unconsciously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. He was merciful after all.

You thought he was going to say something absurd again. To your surprise, he sort of disappeared. One second he was there, the next he's gone…

_Okaaaaayyy, what just happened?_

"Miss Lennox, while I'm getting you a laboratory gown, that you apparently don't have, could you please shut the door?" it looked like he ducked down under his desk to check the other cabinets.

What was he doing anyway? Teaching Biology? Where was Mrs. Caletti?

"Sure." You try to say in a cheerful way, the best you could do after you were just humiliated ten times over.

You turned on the spot, about to shut the door, then something chose this exact moment to knock the wind right out of you and send you (and him you find out a second later, after he lands on you) crashing to the floor. Your eyes are screwed shut at the instant impact.

Principle Gold's head pops boldly (baldly) from under the desk and shouts, "Miss Lennox!! Is it that hard to secure an inanimate plank of—" he stops there as he sees the sight in front of him, rather, a few feet _below_ him. If you thought having all eyes on you because Principle Gold was making an unnecessary assumption was an **awww, crap **moment, you were wrong.

_Awwwwwwww CRAP!!!_

It looked like you weren't the only one who had a knack of jumping in Biology class.

Naturally, the first thing you see when you open your eyes are his eyes (since he was literally on top of you at the moment) and they are saying, _Why does this always happen to us?_ And honestly, you wanted to answer that it was fate! And that he'd have to say yes to you if he didn't want to end up on the floor every now and then. But sadly, that was far from the truth.

It just occurred to you that you were supposed to be shoving him off by now, or that he should at least made an effort to get off of you. But the both of you didn't do anything. It was like both your brains short-circuited.

All Principle Gold could do, having a deja-vu moment, was say 'Abstinence is key' with a weird smirk on his face, like he was watching his kind of soft porn. Ugh, sick. Then that put the both of you back into your senses. He quickly lifted himself off the floor and offered a hand to help you up.

"I'm so sorry._ Again_." He says apologetically while he pulled you up without much difficulty.

Considering the circumstances, a "_Whatever"_ for an answer would've sufficed, but he was looking particularly cute today brushing himself off, straightening his tie, with his ruffled hair and his fruity-smelling aftershave.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." Yeah, whatever Olivia, keep telling yourself that.

You found it puzzling that situations involving you and Sebastian always ended up with _the floor_. The first time you bumped into him (still thanking lucky stars for that), all your books and his second-string jersey (you happen to watch soccer practice sometimes and you know what that yellow jersey is) fell to _the floor_. But you never thought that the next things that'd fall to _the floor_ would be you and him (Rather, more along the lines of his shirt being next … Then you stopped thinking about _the floor _after that. Just to keep things PG-13.).

Oh right! Your hair. Fix it! Fix it! There, maybe they won't notice that you didn't use Herbal Essences today. That's when you catch Sebastian looking at you.

Oh my God! He knows!

You self-consciously tend to your hair (you were doing your best without a mirror!) as you made your way to your chair leaving Sebastian still standing there, about to face Principle Gold's wrath.

"Sebastian." He says fondly, nodding his head in an approving manner. Wait, something tells you that he's going to tone down the wrath factor.

"Principle Gold, a pleasant surprise to see you here." Sebastian says animatedly.

"I'm really sorry for being late. I got caught up with something." Apologetic and all, he doesn't even need to exert effort to use the puppy-dog look. He has had that look on his face probably since he was born. It's innate, like Puss in Boots, in Shrek. And it's telling Mr. Gold to "Please do not embarrass me." But to you it's "Look at me Olivia, I'm über-adorable. I give you permission to make out with me."

Hehe. So, that crash to the floor really messed up your brain, that's the only excuse to the way you were thinking right now. Somebody needs to slap you.

And you thought you were smooth and charming. Gold practically loved him!

You were almost relieved that he got off easy. You would've died than to have witnessed him listen to Principle Gold's absurd theories as to what you and he might be doing before third period biology.

"Now, take a seat, I bet you're dying to get close to Miss Lennox."

You hate Gold. You hate Gold. You hate Gold.

Sebastian blushes slightly and he slowly trudges off to his seat, which is, you're reminded, right in front of you.

He gives you a weak, apologetic smile (which is so cute that your heart stops for a while) as he sits down on his swivel chair.

You almost smile back but you remember that he hasn't answered the million dollar question yet. So, no, you weren't going to talk to him first. He had to say the first word. And you, you were going to act like you did, in all the biology classes you took for the past three years, by not giving a damn about your lab partner.

**40 minutes later…**

Five minutes before the bell was going to ring, you were getting a bit agitated. He hasn't said a word to you since. You haven't even caught him looking at you. That is like, so unlikely. You always catch guys looking at you. Wait, maybe that's a good thing, at least he won't be able to catch _you_ staring at him. Yeah, God has a plan. You thank the merciful One for sparing you from more humiliation and awkwardness. Yes God, Olivia has had her fair share of that today.

Enough is enough.

**4 minutes and thirty seconds later…**

It was degrading the way you were looking at your Rolex every time Principle Gold let out a shower of visible spit drops. And you've got to hand it to him. That was a heck of a lot of watch checking in a time span of under five minutes.

And Sebastian had exactly 45, 44, 43 seconds to give you his answer because you were so intent to ignore him for the rest of the school year for being the first guy to reject you. Silly as you reason was, you were a woman, _with feelings._ And it looked like these feelings you have don't match with his so… Yay! The world is finally being set right!

Not.

Gold dismisses the class early, but not the 10-minute early you would've preferred. See, the bell was going to ring anyway. People start filing out of the room. Even Principle Gold was in a rush to get out, but before he did, he gave Sebastian a wink. Weird much?

But you refuse to budge out of your seat, you looked him in the eye again, like when you first asked him, then you gave him a 'Hastings, you have twenty nine seconds left to accept or turn down my desperate offer' look.

Twenty eight.

"Hey, sorry about not saying anything to you for the past—" he checks _his_ Rolex "49 minutes and 35 seconds. It's just that Principle Gold's like, breathing down my neck. He takes his title as a 'Big Brother' for transfer students very seriously. I don't the both of us to go through one of those humiliation sessions again. I was actually dying to talk to you the whole period. But you know, it's Gold. Sorry."

You thought that rambling was going to lead somewhere but now that doesn't look like it. It went nowhere actually. That was like, 22 seconds wasted. He stood up and swung his sling over his shoulder. Wait, he was going to leave you again? With out a word? God, he was unbelievable!

You had your 'Okay, Hastings, five seconds left. Take it or leave it.' look ready, but the smart boy figured it out before you had to move your face muscles again. And you feel that cool wave of relief. Maybe you wouldn't toss and turn in bed tonight.

"Oh, Olivia? Bout the dance, I'd love to go with you." He says with this boyish grin, the mix of blue and green twinkling like a stained glass window.

YES! YES! YES! YES! He said 'yeeeeeeeessssssssssssssssss'!!!!!!!! You were going to the dance with Sebastian Hastings! Joy!

"As long as you and Duke have that one dance."

Then the bell rings. Real loud.

Yeah, right. Duke. Minor problem. S'okay. You had him for the rest of the night. A few minutes with Duke wouldn't matter so you nod your head happily.

"Yeah, a deal's a deal." You say reluctantly.

He heads to the door and says "I'll meet you there" before he disappears out of the room. Then his head pops back up again.

"Hey, I suck at dancing. So, don't say I didn't warn you." He confesses with an embarrassed smile, biting his bottom lip. Funny, guys don't usually do that. But Sebastian, he's not most guys. He's _the_ guy.

"You're with me. And that means nothing's gonna suck." You say reassuringly from your seat.

There was this moment when your eyes just locked. And looked. Not just in another's eyes, but into another's soul. And in his, you saw the world with all that green and blue. You know that if you let your breath out, you were going to ruin this cosmic connection.

"I'll be seeing you." He says and he flashes you with another one of those smiles.

"Yeah, I'll be seeing you." You let out breathlessly, never breaking eye contact.

"Bye." He mouths with a small wave and he's gone again.

And you're left there yet again. In that damned swivel chair. Swiveling.

This time, they were happy swivels.


	4. A Possible Paranoia

**TITLE:** PLAN B

**CHAPTER**: A Possible Paranoia

**FANDOM:** She's the Man

**RATING:** T

**PAIRING:** Olivia/Viola

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own them.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Another long wait. So sorry, my computer's still busted. I had to use my dad's. And we all know what he'd do to me if he caught me writing this. Lalala. So hope you like this one! Even though it's sorta rushed.

**PLAN B**

**CHAPTER 4**

You had to get out of that room. That was… That was unexpected. You lost yourself for a moment there. And you weren't exactly prepared it. Did you mention that it was totally _unexpected_?

It felt like a soccer game. Your lungs burning, your heart beating so hard against your chest, the lack of air and a _very_ intense warmth. That was the first time you ever had that combination of emotions off the playing field, off the grass.

How could Olivia Lennox do that to you? How is that humanly possible?

Maybe it was Gold's teasing. Okay, you know the Headmaster (Head-without that much hair- Master) meant well, but why does he have to do that to you? To the both of you? He wasn't doing that to any other students. Oh right, you were the only _transfer_ student.

Heck, you were probably the only transferee who was posing as her twin brother. The only transferee (posing as her brother but is actually a girl) who felt turned on by her lab partner. And said lab partner is also definitely a fellow member of the female species.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

This was so not happening! Not when you thought you were real sure about your sexual orientation. Okay, you should tell Paul that if ever you said that you were going to pose as your brother again, you give him permission to shoot a tranquilizer dart, placate, and hypnotize you when you wake up, anything to stop you from doing anything like this ever again.

Because really, you fear for your sanity. And the thoughts in your head aren't making things any better.

_She's a girl… _

Yeah, isn't that obvious? Maybe you mean she's a _pretty_ girl.

And that train of thought lead to…

_**You're a girl…**_

Oh right. You almost forgot that, since you were dressing up as a boy, trying to act like one and all...

Which made you remember that…

_**You were a **_**STRAIGHT**_** girl!**_

Yeah, you're right, says the logical part of your brain. Totally right. You _were_ a straight girl.

That has to mean that you are now… drum roll please… BISEXUAL!!

**Oh. Shit.**

Great soul-searching you're doing here, Vi. What? Now you're bi? Abso-fuckin-lutely deep.

You were pretty sure that you were going straight (or bisexually?) to hell.

In a way, you were starting to understand why Sebastian even dated Monique.

You recall his answer.

"_She's hot."_

And crap. This is taking operation 'Be Sebastian' to the next level. Yeah, you were starting to find girls attractive, in a way that no normal girl would ever find another of her kind to be.

In true twin brother fashion, the Sebastian part of Viola tells the Viola part of Viola that she has always been abnormal.

Yes. You're annoying yourself like he does. Effing perfect. Why were you doing this to yourself again? Oh yeah, soccer. You love soccer. Soccer. Soccer. Viola loves soccer. Yes you do.

Viola Sucker.

Maybe that was more like it.

"Hey Sebastian!"

You unintentionally jumped in surprise. You turn around to find the voice calling you.

It was Maria, _her _friend, who was probably looking for _her._

"Have you seen Olivia?" she asks in a hurry, juggling with her bag and her books. She looked really busy. Someone you definitely didn't want to piss off by giving obscure answers as to where the person in question is.

But you do it anyway. It had just occurred to you that you were trying to get as far away as possible from her. Who knew where she was?

"Sorry, I don't know."

She gives you a look of disbelief. Then what she said next totally threw you off guard.

"Oh, you two haven't been together?" her tone and the way her eyebrows were raised, suggestive.

What now? Does she want an inside scoop on how you had a nonexistent make-out session with Olivia?

_A make-out session with Olivia…_

What the hell?! Did you just let out a hopeful sigh?

Ahhhhh! What were you thinking? Shake it off, shake it off. Dirty thoughts will go away. Come to think of it, that locker looks pretty nice to knock your head into…

Even though that up-coming dance on Friday was going to most likely make those thoughts feelings resurface. Nope it's never going to happen again.

Just keep telling yourself that and you'll be fine.

You almost forgot that Maria was still in front of you. She probably thought you were crazy, sighing for no apparent reason.

"Try the cafeteria." You suggest, wondering why Maria didn't look for her there, considering it was lunch time. And when it's lunch time, you usually find people eating lunch… in the cafeteria.

She gave a curt nod of thanks and proceeded to look for Olivia in the cafeteria.

Okay, look who's not going to eat lunch today? You weren't even going to go near there.

_Unless_… they have pizza.

"Hastings!"

Uh oh. You knew that voice. It's been shouting at you for the past few days. Most of those articulated shouts involved the words 'Nancy Boy' but you didn't mind. You still busted your ass out there, tired as hell to let it get to you. Heck, you weren't even a boy anyway.

With your eyes screwed shut, you turn around (for the nth time!) again, bracing yourself to face your Coach's wrath. Then you let out a big breath, about to open them. But before that happens, he throws something at you. The piece of cloth plops right onto your face and as it fell you managed to catch it.

Your eyes open slowly to find a candy red Illyrian starter jersey. And your jaw drops immediately. All logical thought seemed to escape you and you throw yourself at your Coach, hugging him. You felt his body go rigid at contact and you could almost hear his thoughts thinking, "Nancy Boy". Then again, you were starting for the Cornwall game, you didn't care. Coach just has to be disturbed by the memory of you hugging him forever.

"Really?" you ask, just to make sure this wasn't all a dream. Cuz what Olivia did to you back there in Biology class sure felt like one. You even considered asking Coach to pinch you. But you figured that might've hurt and you don't want to injure yourself three days before the big game if this all wasn't a dream or anything.

"No, I was joking, you idiot!" he answers you in his usual sarcastic way. That confirms that this was in fact, real. Yes! Yes! Yes! You were going to do a happy dance (that consisted of stupid 60's disco moves) the moment Coach was out of sight. Yep, you were going to do it in the middle of a student-packed hall.

**(BGM: Earth, Wind and Fire's Groove Tonight)**

_**AFTER A VERY ENTERTAINING HAPPY DANCE…**_

_Of which you received many stares of mixed terror and amusement._

You went straight to the cafeteria because you heard from Toby that Andrew got tomato sauce stains on his coat. Once you got in, you lined up for some pizza!

_**AFTER WAITING FIVE MINUTES IN LINE**_

You finally get your pizza. But then you almost dropped your tray because you spotted Olivia. Duh she was going to be here, you even told Maria she was going to be there. Oh, it looks like Maria's already found her because she was sitting next to her.

You were rather surprised that you caught _her_ looking at you. Then you hit a random post that was inconveniently not in your line of vision because all that was in yours was her. Damn, you couldn't stand straight. Ah! You're feeling _it_ again. Scolding yourself, you give a quick smile and walked out of there. With the pizza you waited in line for of course (which was miraculously still intact after your tray's collision with stupid randomly-placed post).

_**PIZZA AND TWO HOURS OF CLASS LATER**_

You went up to the dorm to change into your practice outfit. And you can't help but clutch on to your starter jersey for dear life. Ever since you were a little girl, this was what you lived for. You hold it in front of you, examining it in all its glory. And in a bold white font, you read:

**HASTINGS - 13**

Then you felt pride all over you. All the stuff that was going on, all the problems and complications, just to feel this, it was all worth it. You just know that you have a stupid grin on your face.

But you had to go there as the other Hastings. As Sebastian, the male one.

This reminded you that you had to go to that party as Olivia's 'friendly-not-so-friendly' date.

Simply put, you were going as a _guy_.

And you didn't know how to pull that off, the dance was in three days.

That meant you had to call…

"Hello?"

"Paul, it's me."

"What is it now?" he asks agitatedly. He was probably doing Kia's hair. And you and Yvonne know that out of the three of you, Oaul found Kia exceptionally hard to work with due to her short attention span.

"Kia! Keep your head still!" you hear at the other end.

Yep, you were right. After listening to a few scissor snips, you cleared your throat, trying to catch Sir Paul's attention, which was a far cry from that of Kia's.

"Sorry, it's Kia. You know how it is with her. Don't worry, she'll look absolutely gorge after Fabio shampoos her hair." He says animatedly, it sounded like he was happy with the way Kia's hair turned out. And who the hell is Fabio? The new guy who wants to be a girl? Lord knows that there are a lot of those people out there already.

"Yeah, can't wait to see her Paul. Anyway, the reason I called is cause there's this dance at Illyria on Friday…"

"Oooohhh, listening attentively now!" you knew that this was his kind of thing. He probably had a freaking hail storm of ideas by now.

You continue "And we have to be in costumes—" and he cuts in again.

"—Since you gave me an almost unreasonable three-day notice, I pledge to find you the perfect costume, do your make-up (did you need make-up?), style your hair (Yes, Paul does in fact style wigs). And I'll throw Yvonne in as a date." He enumerates, all business-like. You love it when he does that, like you didn't even have to ask. Come to think of it, you _didn't_ ask.

"Awww, Paul. You're such a good friend. I don't know what I'd do without you." You say sentimentally. Maybe the next minute you'd be crying your eyes out.

"You'd be an out of school youth with really bad hair. Your ends were doing splits like acrobats before I dealt with them. You'd totally be lost and clueless, the TV show and the movie."

That's so Paul. To the untrained ear and eye, he'd make no sense. But once you get to know and understand the enigma that is Paul, you are enlightened like Buddha himself has guided you through a decade of meditation in the woods.

"Hey! It's not that bad!" you defend! Your fingers flying to your hair.

"Viola! Don't touch! You'll mess up your wig."

He doesn't miss a beat. He knew you too well.

Seriously, he should be the sixth member of Queer Eye, they wouldn't be the Fab Five anymore, they'd be the Super Six or the Sexy Six (copyright that later!).

Or Paul could have his own show. It would be called:

_Queer Eye for the Straight Guy Who's Actually a Girl Who's Bi_

Yeah, that show would be an absolute hit, since it still rhymes and everything. You could see it now. And the first episode's going to be based on you. Yes, that was the way it was going to go.

Wait! Did he say that he was going to set you up with Yvonne? Whoops… And you forgot to tell him _that_?!

"Ummm, Paul?" your voice tentative and unsure on how to put this.

He stayed silent. You knew that he knew what was coming. He's gonna let you say it. He knew you did something wrong.

"I sort of have a date already." You admit slowly. And you don't know why, but guiltily too.

"Who asked who?" It was scary the way he was all accusatory and stiff.

"She asked me." You say truthfully.

Silence again. Paul being silent was nice every once in a while because he talks non-stop but this silence? Not good.

"God, I'm so stupid! I should've seen it coming. How could I have forgotten about this?!" he yells at himself. You can see him rolling his eyes at the other end.

"Forget about what?" you ask, having no idea on what he was talking about.

"Look, Vi. You have this great personality. And it just comes out in huge waves that anyone can drown in…" Okay, **what** was he talking about? "… Especially someone of the opposite sex."

"So that now everyone thinks that you're a guy. Well, let's just say that you can't help it if some girl falls for you."

"She's not just some girl, Paul!" you say a little ticked off. You thought he'd be a little more sensitive. He was gay for God's sake!

"Oh my God." He says surprised and horrified at the same time.

"You… like-like her, don't you?" he whispers. How could he see right through you? He wasn't even seeing you! You hope nobody at the salon was listening to this conversation. Rumors like this could make your mom mad enough to try and kill you. She didn't want her 'darling debutant' crushing on another fellow debutant. No siree.

So you weren't going to admit and give into Paul this time. Another lie wouldn't hurt. You were on a run.

"I don't like her like that Paul." You say calmly, like the whole thing was amusing you when this was all freaking you out of your cleats. You had soccer practice in ten.

"We're only going as friends. No biggie. We sort of had this deal so I could hook her up with Duke who's helping me with soccer." To you it sounded pretty plausible.

Buy it. Buy it. It's mostly true. Please Paul. This is sort of knocking my brains out right now.

He lets out a heavy sigh. He decided to drop it… for now. Knowing Paul, he was going to call you later that night and get it out of you.

He just gives you some eerie last words.

"Just don't do anything you'll regret, Vi. I don't want to see you hurt."

"You're not going to." You assure him.

"Good. You have practice in eight." He says abruptly, creeping the bejeebers out of you.

"I know, I know. Do you have to keep track of my life 24/7?" you feel like you were being babied. C'mon, you could do just fine on your own.

"Actually, 24/5, I don't care about your weekends."

Okay, only the _weekends_ were fine alone.

"Right, gotta go. Thanks a lot Paul, you're the best!"

"I know. I'll hook you up real nice. Bye Vi, go kick some balls." He says and you can feel his toothy smile through the smile.

"Bye." Then you flip your phone shut.

You absolutely love Paul. In a totally platonic way. But before you could ponder any longer of the grotesque subject of loving Paul, your phone suddenly goes off again (I'm a Barbie—shit! Stop ringing!)

For the past five days you had 72 missed calls.

Justin so needs to get a life.

You throw your phone haphazardly on your mattress and pick up a soccer ball.

You had a feeling that soccer balls weren't the only ones you were going to kick during that Cornwall game.

Put it this way: Justin had to guard a lot more objects of great importance than just the Cornwall goal posts.

Right in between his legs was a good place to start looking after.


	5. Yours Are Seven Hours Away From Mine

**TITLE:** PLAN B

**CHAPTER**: Yours Are Seven Hours Away From Mine

**FANDOM:** She's the Man

**RATING:** T

**PAIRING:** Olivia/Viola

**Disclaimer:** The plots and some other stuff are all I own. No made-up characters in this one.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** First of all, I'm so, so, so sorry that this took the longest time! And secondly, thanks for all the reviews! They mean a lot (Awww shucks!). First of all… What's PMS? And I mean the one that doesn't deal with periods. I bet you dear readers are anxious to read about the dance, well, wait for one more chapter. So without further ado (cuz there's been a lot of that going on lately!), here's chapter 5!

**PLAN B**

**CHAPTER 5**

You opened your eyes to read the clock saying 7:27 and to find Maria sitting on the edge of her bed, innocently holding a new box of chocolates. She smiles and gives you a knowing smile.

"My, my, my. The scent of chocolate is the new alarm clock. World-renowned scientist, Maria Macduff makes a breath-through thanks to test subject 8229, also known as 'Olivia'."

If she didn't have that box of chocolatey goodness, you would've thrown a pillow at her. But if you wanted any, you had to be nice.

"And 8229 has repressed possible acts of cranky revenge, another miracle! Good girl, now say Ahhhhhhh!!"

You open your mouth obediently as she pops one in. Mmmmm. Chocolate Cherries. Nice.

"Thanks." You say after swallowing it.

"Sure, 8229. Now get ready for class." She tells you, throwing you a towel. She's already in uniform. Maria, always earlier than you. Which reminds you that you were going to be late.

Again.

You get off the bed and throw the towel on your shoulder. You fix your bed because there was no point in catching time now. You were going to be late anyway. You wonder why you woke up late then you remember that you were thinking about him _all night_. Maybe even into the morning.

And in your thought-bed, you decided that you were going to kiss him tonight. Forget the "just friends" thing. You had to do this. Because he needed to feel that, to feel that you needed him. You were going to kiss him so passionately that even the people he hates will feel pleasure.

Wait, did you just think that?

God. That was so schoolgirl.

But anyway, tonight was the night. Everything was set. You had your costume, halo down to the heels. You had like an army of Herbal Essences products for the special occasion. You knew better than to be in Sebastian's presence without some in your hair.

Tonight, you expected to knock the lights out of a certain (or as we readers know, uncertain) Hastings.

Class started 7:45 on Fridays. Great.

Well, high school can just go and screw itself.

You made it through four hours of class without falling asleep. Good for you. Now it was lunch and just one more class. Biology.

While heading for the cafeteria, you feel your stalker-radar go off and Malcolm appears on cue. Maria shakes her head, obviously annoyed. Nobody liked to be around Malcolm. You mean, who did? Who was like, human?

"Hey Olivia, check it out, I wrote a song and I think it's… to put it, _more superior _than that of Hastings'." He says all excited and you prayed to God that you could just dissolve at that moment. Anything than to start listening to…

"I see you through your window…" he bursts out.

Any hired assassins out there to kill you? Cause' now would probably be a good time for you to be on the scope of their sniper rifles or something.

"… as I'm standing on a tree outside!"

You expect dry ice to start forming around him and you wonder if Michael Jackson has the same effect on kids.

"That's real nice, Malcolm." You say politely and you walk as fast as you can away from the serious case of absurdity (and gayness). You didn't want to stay to hear the rest of that song.

Seriously, if Sebastian wasn't getting you any sleep at night, what could Malcolm's terrible lyrics do to you? Maybe you weren't going to eat anymore. And hey, maybe that isn't a bad idea since you were kind of bloating up anyway.

"Olivia!" Maria shouts after you, trying to catch up.

"Oh my God! Did Malcolm Festes just do that?" she asks even though she so totally knows that Malcolm _Feces_ did in fact do that.

"Oh come on, it's sort of… expected from him." You say because it was in fact, a fact. You remember all the other weird stuff he did, like standing on a tree outside your window, with his camera around his neck. And he thought the rock you threw at him was an acorn that fell from the tree.

You were so sorry that he didn't know that there weren't any oak trees in Illyria.

Not.

"Yeah, I think I threw up a little in my mouth. I wasn't even listening until he sang, 'Then an acorn hit me and I bit the dust'. He is so freaky."

"You're understating Maria." You say as you step into the cafeteria. After waiting a very long time in line, you were a little disappointed to still not see Sebastian there.

"Don't worry, we have Biology next, you're going to see him." She says and you turn to her, confused. How could she have possibly read you like that?

"How could you have possibly read me like that?" you ask, just like in your thoughts, but replacing a pronoun here and there.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Yeah, you had to work on that. Maybe you should make Maria wear earplugs at night. Who knows about all the burlesque things she head in the wee hours of the morning.

You were in class before the bell rang. So that means nobody else was there. If you could, you'd give yourself pat on the back. But since you weren't anywhere near a contortionist, you couldn't.

You almost tried to. You know, pat yourself on the back. But Sebastian walked in and your hand snapped itself back into place.

"Hi!" he says cheerfully, taking a seat.

"Hi." You reply, a little awkwardly. What would you think when you walked in on yourself, trying to pat one's own back. It must've looked… silly?

Stupid Olivia. Stupid. You should know better than to try to do stupid things in private, someone's (who so happens to be the object of your desire) bound to walk in and catch you in the said process of humiliating yourself.

"Are you okay? Does your back ache or something?" he says, his eyes squinting at you wearily.

Awwww, he was concerned. So caring, so dreamy, so Sebastian.

"Cause' I can give you a massage…"

Did he just say that he was going to give you a massage? If he did, then yes!

_Yes Mr. Hastings, I want your fingers to give me the bestest back rub ever!!_

"…coupon. I know this guy, Paul, and he gives great massages…"

Wow. Who would've ever thought that he was a high-maintenance guy?

"— to my mom!" he adds quickly, trying to put on a convincing smile. So they were for his mom? Nah, he definitely has massages. Maybe he's metrosexual? And he's a footballer, so David Beckham-y... God, that's so hot!

Then you remember that there was going to be no physical contact between the both of you and you feel a little disappointed. But massage coupons?

"Sure, thanks." You say with a smile. And he smiles back. And you just die.

"Olivia?"

Ummm, were you supposed to like the tone of his voice right now? That's the tone of voice people use when they're about to tell you something bad like, _sorry, I can't go tonight._

He just can't do that to you. Yu practically dreamed about him for three days straight. For the first time, you were truly, madly, deeply in…fatuated? Yes, that was it, infatuated with him. So much, that you were already stealing lines from Savage Garden songs.

"Aww, don't look like that. I'm still gonna go tonight."

Yay! Your heart rate seemed to be back to normal. But then you remember you must've had an ultra-pitiful look on your face for him to say that. What were you thinking? But nonetheless, you were still perky. Like porky the pig, only with an e, and of course, with a totally slimmer waistline (that a certain hunk-a-buff was going to put his arms around later that night).

"It's just that, I have soccer practice today and I might run a little—actually, I'm probably going to run **a lot** later" he realizes, "but I'm might be a little late so don't worry or anything."

"Oh, okay. But swear you're going to come?" you ask, trying not to sound _that_ desperate.

"I swear." He says sincerely. "And I'm not crossing my fingers or anything." He jokes.

"How would I know that you're going to keep your word?"

You don't know why you were agonizing again. Maybe, infatuation made you stupid. But maybe not, since one plus one was still two.

"Is there a guy in his right mind, who isn't dying to see you tonight?" he asks you, his eyes sparkling like crystal.

He got you grinning again. You could always count on him to do that. You smiled like you, like Olivia, not like a plastic debutant who looked like a beauty queen who got trapped in a room filled with laughing gas.

You look into his eyes again. You're unable to describe the state of antigravity you were in.

You felt like floating with him, to the sky, like the color his eyes were.

Your heart starts talking and it says, "This doesn't feel like infatuation."

Then Duke, Toby, Andrew and… Malcolm? Walk in. It was hard to take your eyes out of his, like you wanted to do something more.

But you do, reluctantly crashing back to the Earth.


	6. Let's Make This Hasty, Hastings

**TITLE:** PLAN B

**CHAPTER**: Let's Make This Hasty, Hastings

**FANDOM:** She's the Man

**RATING:** T

**PAIRING:** Olivia/Viola

**Disclaimer:** I own what I own. And unfortunately, I don't own these characters.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** About all my past typos, I'll try to edit them when I have time. But I can't deny that I don't have a lot of that in my hands right now. Okay, so another Viola chapter, I'm trying to make hers as interesting as Olivia's in this one. Well, let's see what you guys think. This one's totally longer! And I apologize again for all the long waits. Happy reading!

**PLAN B**

**CHAPTER 6**

You saw blue before. Carolina blue, the school color that you wanted to wear ever since junior high, that's why you went to Cornwall. You've seen oceans, they were dark and shallow that hugged the shores of beaches that Justin's metallic sapphire hummer that he'd never let you drive parked on. But you were never that impressed.

But now, looking into her eyes, you're completely blown away.

You never thought they were that an amazing shade of blue.

And you noticed that only now? Get a grip Hastings!

And you couldn't stop. You saw a glimpse of something and you wanted to describe what you couldn't put into words. And what you saw made you feel something, equally beyond words.

"**I LOVE HER!**"

What the hell? You tear your eyes away from hers and turn to the person who supplied a reasonable explanation, although he had no idea that he just did.

"Toby?! What the hell?" said Andrew, looking around to see if anyone else heard. Apparently, Andrew shared your sentiments. Toby could be crazy too sometimes.

Duke just stared in amusement and Malcolm, he stared too… just at Olivia.

Bastard. You wish you could whip him with a towel, like what Duke did that one time in the showers. Then he won't even have eyes to look at her the same way ever again.

"Whatever man, I'm gonna ask her to this dance! I don't care what you guys say!" he half-shouts at them. He looked like he was going to pull a gun out or something and shoot shells into the ceiling and suddenly you're all in cop movies.

"You guys have issues." He adds to justify his outburst.

Yeah, Toby. And _we_ have issues?

"Well, let's see if you live up, Toby. Hey, best lab partner ever!" Duke greets as Eunice walks in… ummm, gasping for air… a normal occurrence really. And she waves back at Duke excitedly.

"Eunice, I think Toby wants to say something to you." He says while grabbing Toby by the shirt and pushing him in front of Eunice as if he was a blow-up doll.

Toby looked horrified.

"Yes Toby?" she asks, like a puppy. You don't know why a puppy… Out of all animals…

Toby stays silent, that is, until Andrew nudges him, a little too harshly on the ribs after which he gave a very loud yelp.

"Umm, Eunice… I— I wanna ask you if it's uh… cool with you that… you know… you and I—"

Toby never got to finish what he was going to say because a shiny bald head blinded everyone. Seriously.

You both look at each other suspiciously. When Gold's around, you and Olivia shouldn't be within a five mile radius of each other. There was this air of impending doom that happened to reek around Gold. Maybe it was a miracle of science.

"Toby? What's wrong? You look sick." He said, looking at Toby as if he were a squirrel he just ran over. If a guy like him knew how to drive that is.

"Oh, it's nothing Principle Gold." Toby tries to assure him. He was also trying to walk away from him, until Gold grabbed him by the collar. You remind yourself to never get on Gold's bad side… ever.

"Nope, it's not nothing. In fact, I'd like you to go to the nurse's office. You never know when it'll turn out to be male patterned baldness. You don't want to lose those dreadlocks, young man. Do you want to lose your… _breadlocks_?" he asks Toby, cocking a rather thick eyebrow that had the capacity to replace that big bald patch on his head.

You wonder why he never tried hair transplants. Oh, that's right, because he thinks that chicks actually _dig_ bald men. Whatever. Being a chick, you know that chicks only dig bald men when they're Brad Pitt.

But who were you to say that? You were dressed up as your brother for God's sake! Then you realize that it had nothing to do with you being weird.

"N—No Sir!" Toby utters back, looking like he did when he _almost_ asked Eunice out.

"Then I implore you to go get yourself checked." Then he spots you. "Mr. Hastings, please escort him to the Nurse's office." And he winks at you. He _winked _at you. Now, you guys, don't go thinking that it was a pretty sight because it was not.

You remember the conversation you and Gold had after he saw you scratching your wig and he told you that you were going to be bald too. If he only knew that you had the most gorgeous long brown hair…

"Now you boys go scoot! I'll excuse the both of you from Biology today." he orders, snapping you out of your thoughts. Thoughts that were about you, missing the way you flipped your hair around. You didn't do much of that anymore, you know, since your wig would come flying off too, like in Charlie's Angels.

You give an apologetic look at Olivia that said, "Sorry Gold's being such an ass again. See you later?" And she nodded in understanding, mouthing a 'bye'. Suddenly, you didn't want to go anymore, but you get off your chair reluctantly, joining Toby, who was already by the door.

"Sebastian! Soccer at two thirty!" Duke shouts after you.

"What? Am I not a part of the team?" Toby asks, mock-hurt. Or maybe he actually was hurt?

"Dude, he means you too." You say, playfully hitting Toby on the head.

"Man, don't do that. My locks might fall off!" he panics, fidgeting with his hair.

"You're as paranoid as Gold. Keep that up and I assure you that you can kiss your _'breadlocks'_ bye bye." You answer him.

"Are you for real?" he asks you, wide-eyed.

"Sure, I'm for real! I'm a true-blue black brotha!!" Okay, there you go again with your random ghetto slang. Toby just looks confused. And perhaps racially offended…

Now this was just awkward. Too awkward. Toby was _never_ that quiet. You had to say something.

"Oh, look it's the nurse's office!"

After two hours of soccer practice, you were all sweat and mud. Pretty gross, right? But that didn't bother you. You were so pumped to play in the game tomorrow. As a starter! You were going to beat Justin's testosterone-injected ass.

Duke and the others left already. You had to stay since Coach said that you needed more practice. Hey, what he says is law. And if he says that you have to stay for one more hour of practice, then you were going to stay for one more hour of practice, even if you were going to have less preparation time for the dance.

"Hastings! Fifty goals from the penalty spot. The other half with your left. Since they see you're a new Illyrian face, they'll go hard on you."

"_Extra_ rough since you look like a Nancy boy." He added as an afterthought giving you an up and down.

"So I might have to make some penalty shots tomorrow?" you finish for him.

"Yes. Otherwise, you will be extremely hurt for nothing." He says as if it weren't a life threatening situation, like adding two more teaspoons of sugar to his afternoon tea or something nonchalantly British similar to that.

An hour and fifty goals later, he seemed pretty pleased with you. It was five thirty and it just occurred to you that you only had two hours to get ready for that dance and look so damn good for Olivia. You didn't even know what you were going as. Paul may already have a purple Barney costume waiting for you when you get back.

Coach gave a forceful blow of his whistle and you ran back to him on the sidelines.

"Alright, Hastings. Great hustle out there. It makes an old man proud. Now go get yourself some rest. You'll need it tomorrow." He says with a whistle stuck in between his top and bottom teeth.

So it sounded like this:

"Alwight, Astings. Gret Hu-el out ter. E makes anold an prow. Ow go get yeself some res. Yule need it t'morrow."

If he wasn't your coach two weeks prior, you would've never understood him. But what could you say? You guys shared a bond. The coach and you. You were sure that he was better than the chauvinist pig of a man that coached the boys' soccer team in Cornwall.

He took his whistle out of his mouth and said, "You're a promising lad, Hastings. And I expect you to go kick some Cornwall arse tomorrow. Show me that you really deserve that first-string jersey."

Awww, Coach. He made you want to cry. Like, you were really tearing up right now. Ah! He can't see you cry! He thinks you're feminine enough as it is, next thing you know he's going to start calling you 'Faggy Boy'. And you're not even a real boy. Man, that's just… sad.

"Thanks Sir." You croak. Were you that obvious?

"I hear you're taking Ms. Lennox to that dance tonight." He says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Scary sight, scary.

You look at him questioningly. "What? Gold won't shut his mouth about you." He mumbles, crossing his arms in a defensive matter.

"Uhhm, yeah sir. I'm taking her… Just as a friend."

It sounded like an outright lie, no matter how true it was.

"Really? Gold says otherwise." Coach says, surprised. C'mon, what the hell do all the teachers talk about? And how does the coach know?

"Really, I swear. Nothing going on." You try to be believable.

"Now, run along lad. You've got a nice young vixen to dazzle!"

Eh? And he's excited about _that…_? Coach, we have a game tomorrow and does it not bother you a bit that all your players might be drunk by midnight tonight because of some innocently looking fruit punch?

"Yes sir!" you squeak, like chipmunk. And you run… You run away from your coach, who seemed like he spent too much time with Gold. You remind yourself to have a vigil for his soul later… But you'll probably be too lazy to do that anyway so you prayed for him while you ran.

And that explains why you tripped face-first into the mud a little while after. You swear you didn't see that _humongous_ rock there. You get up and feel so disgusted with yourself.

You felt sorry for all the work Paul was going to have to do with you. He had a really messy mess to clean up.

A car horn honks at you. Then you see a green Volkswagen in the distance.

It looked really clean… for now.

Seeing you up close, Paul must've realized how much of a cave person you were. He struggled with his seatbelt and jumped out of his car, panting.

"You are **not** getting into my car." He reprimands, opening his arms out wide, trying to shield the nearest door.

"Then what do you want me to do? Walk to the salon?" you ask, throwing your hands up in frustration.

"If you don't get yourself cleaned up, you just might have to do that." He says, dead serious.

"Alright, fine." You let out flatly.

"Great! I was starting to worry about all the clean streets you were going to desecrate." He says, clapping his palms together in relief. "Oh, and heads up!"

Did he just throw a towel at your face? Why do they always throw things on your face? Did you look like that much of a trash can? Last time you checked you were still human and err… seventy percent _sane_.

You trudged off to the showers, realizing that you were already late as it is, you started into a run. As you ran, it surprised you how wet you got and it you only ran ten meters tops. It almost horrified you that your body sweated like a forty-year-old man's would. Disgusting… But it took you a little while to realize that it was not, in fact sweat.

Perfect, the sprinklers were just on time.

"So, I want your hair slightly slicked—ooohh! I like that, _slightly slicked—_ and parted to the side. Dye you a darker, fuller brown, almost black, giving a mysterious _debonair_ impression. Or we could go for that out of bed look. You know, the '_I just had a night of wild sex'_ one! Either way, I'm gonna need mousse. And lots of it!" Paul was talking excitedly, circling you, touching bits of your supposed 'hair' every once and a little while.

Personally, you just thought he was possessed.

"If you'd only let me work with your _real_ hair. It would be so much—"

"NO." you say calmly in the over-sized seat.

"So you don't have to wear that stupid wig everyday! Besides, Peter Pan hair is _in_ nowadays!" he cried at you.

"Drop it Paul. Anyway, I'm going to stop pretending to be Sebastian after the game… which is tomorrow! So I'm not going to go all crazy and let you chop all my hair off—"

You were at a loss for words when he whipped your wig off of you.

"—Three quarters." He estimates, eyeing your actual hair as if he already magically cut it.

"No way will I let you cut three quarters of my hair off!" you complain immediately, covering as much strands of your hair in a protective manner. You caught sight of yourself in the many mirrors of the place and you looked like you had a beard. Definitely the prettiest looks.

"Don't do that!" Paul slaps you softly on the shoulder. "You should know better… how bearded terrorists scare the hell out of me." He closed his eyes and shuddered. Somehow, he looked sort of… You don't know… Turned on or something?

Gross.

You let your hair fall to your sides in an instant.

"You can open your eyes now, I'm not Medusa anymore." You assure him dryly. Before he could, a thought struck you and you grabbed at your hair again, positioning them at the sides of your mouth.

"Good, so we can go to— AAAAHHHHH! Vi! Don't do that!!" he screamed. You just laugh. Paul was so serious. "Lighten up, Paul." You say in between giggles. He glares at you. You stop whatever the hell sound that was coming out of you.

"Lighten up? How can I lighten up when I've got to _fix __**you**_ up? God Vi, if you were a car, you just lost your brakes and the steering wheel."

Wow. "Paul, that was so... serious." You say, looking at him in a new, "You're so mature, Paul" way. Wait, wasn't that how you _always_ looked at him?

He breaks out into a laugh, pleased with himself. "I know." He says with a smile. "But you also need a good ole' carwash. Shower, Hastings!" He barks at you like Coach Dinklage. No, Paul! Don't be like that! You've already had an extra Dinklage hour. You didn't need to go completely overboard with it you know.

You felt something soft but moderately heavy, land on your peripheral vision. Another towel to the face, **again**?! That was how many times in one day?!

You let it fall to your lap and through the mirror you could see Paul standing behind you, snapping his fingers and pointing to the salon's showers.

"Voila!" (Don't go thinking this is a typo!) Paul exclaims while untying your blindfold to reveal a clothes-rack and various black articles of clothing hung from it. You recognize it immediately.

"That's just a tux." You say dumbly.

He gasped.

_Dumbly _because it was plain dumb to disagree with whatever Paul suggested.

Now, Paul stared at you like you just slapped him on the face.

"What do you mean _it's just a tux_?" he whines, looking harassed.

"Never underestimate the simple elegance of an amazingly constructed and tailored tuxedo. I'm telling you, Vi, this is a power suit. This is ARMANI for God's sake!" he explained to you in an exasperated manner.

Okay, Paul wasn't crazy _yet._

You just didn't want to look like a penguin. Though they were cute little… No! You are not wearing a tux!

"Paul?" you start, not exactly enthusiastic about the whole thing.

"Na-ah, Vi." he tuts, shaking his head, not having any of it. "It's not archaic, it's _classic." _he states and it's final.

You had no choice but to look like a penguin later…

"A very fine-looking penguin!" remarked Kia after you came out of the dressing room wearing the your 'penguin costume'.

You hear someone give a wolf whistle. You turn your head to the side to see Yvonne give you an innocent smile. To cover up for all that guilt it must've took.

Wait, _Yvonne_? Those acts of sexual appreciation were expected of Kia, not Yvonne. What was wrong with the world?! Then your reflection in the mirror verified that you were in fact, wearing a tuxedo. Something **must** be wrong with the world.

But you had to admit, you looked like a _hot _dude. You see Paul smiling broadly, satisfied. But then you see a little tear well up in his eye and you could tell that he wasn't only contented, but he was utterly _happy._

"If I were myself and I'd see this self of my self walking down the street, I'd totally ask for other self's number!" you say breathlessly, throwing them different 'dashing' poses.

It looked like you weren't _that_ dashing since they all fell silent. It was as if there wasn't a teenage girl in front of them, dressed as a boy, who was trying to be America's Next Top Manhunt Model. Nope, everything was normal.

"If it helps. I'd ask you out too. If I didn't know that you were actually a girl."

It came from Paul. Man, you counted on him to always be the one to give the sensible comments. Not the ones that would freak you out of your bandages and back into a bra.

But you still run over and hug him anyway, arousing much suspicion between the customers of the salon. They all must be thinking that the nice little hair stylist has finally found a bird of the same feather, the normal gay love affair.

Like the one you've fantasized about all through soccer practice between you and…

C'mon! Are you actually admitting that you're totally in to her? She doesn't even know that you're NOT a guy. Viola, for once, just be realistic!

But on the subject of Olivia…

"Paul?" you say, signaling for him to get closer so you could whisper something without being overheard. Kia and Yvonne don't really have to know about this. "I don't really know how to dance, much more if it's with a girl." You say feebly, glad that he's not able to see you flush red.

"The slow songs?" He asks sternly. You nod your head into his shoulder, you guys were still hugging.

"I will kill you if your hands go anywhere besides her waist. Don't get too close or you'll lead her on, leading her on will lead to other things so don't go there." He says in a serious manner. It sort of scared you.

Really, where else would your hands go anyway? Come to think of it… _What if _your hands went where they weren't supposed to? You dismiss the thought immediately, reminding yourself that this whole situation was strictly platonic.

You expect him to say something more but he finally pulled away from you. He looks you in the eye, silently asking you if you're good to go.

You try to do the silent thing to, telling him 'no'.

"Okay guys! 'Sebastian' is ready!" he shouts at Kia and Yvonne who were chatting animatedly to each other.

Apparently, you, Paul, and the silent thing don't mix. Strangely, the only person it worked so well on was Ol… Right, Paul said to not go there. So don't Vi, don't.

"We're already late. Quickly, off to the bat mobile!" he says, taking out his car keys and racing out of the door, checking his reflection on one of the mirrors on the way out.

"I call shot-gun!" Kia shouts, running after him.

You catch Yvonne's eye and the both of you shake your heads at the juvenile behavior that your two companions committed.

"A 'look who's talking?' moment?" you and her say at the same time. And then the both of you immediately burst into laughter.

What you really wanted to do was to lock yourself in the bathroom and puke your ass off but that would ruin the tux. Then you realize, your friends who had your back no matter what were a very good alternative.

"Race you?" Yvonne asks you with a huge grin.

"Oh, you're so on, bee-yotch!" and the both of you break into a run.

Yep, they were definitely a_ better_ alternative. It'd be such a waste of free(not paid by you) resources.

No way were you going to throw up that Frankfurter Paul bought you along the way…


	7. Dance, Dance!

**TITLE:** PLAN B

**CHAPTER**: DANCE, DANCE!

**FANDOM:** She's the Man

**RATING:** T

**PAIRING:** Olivia/Viola

**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em. I only own this story… And Malcolm's song. Haha! Kidding…)

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** To all my faithful readers, thanks a bunch for sticking with this fic! Even though some chapters contain occasional typos. I read over my work (previous chapters) while typing this chapter and I found a lot here and there. So stupid. I'm also sorry for making you guys wait for the longest time. I hate myself for it! Anyway, we're finally at the dance! Yes! Yes! Hehe.. Anyway, here's chapter 7! Lotsa reviews faster updates!!

**PLAN B**

**CHAPTER 7**

Could your heels go any higher?! It was a miracle that you even made your way to the gym without tripping over or something equally unglamorous like that.

Maria, dressed as a nun (she never listens to anything sensible coming from you, why she came as a nun was beyond you…), sees the pain, so clearly etched on your face, and says, "They were on sale honey, and you said they were ehem… 'to-die-for'. Deal with it."

Note to self: Never let Maria run off to join a convent or something. You can't take her telling you off with a huge, black robe on any other time than tonight. That's so Paula Abdul, straight up…

"I miss my _own _mom." You say, pouting your lips and all.

"I know, you said that last, last, last night… Do you know you talk in your sleep?"

The earplugs. _Right._

"It's strange how you're so vocal at night. Like walruses on the seashore."

Maria sucks at metaphors. Period.

Walruses, and anything concerning you, just don't belong in the same sentence.

Except maybe something humanitarian, like _Olivia helped the walruses back into the water_. Yeah, you could do with that sentence. You had to admit, watching 50 First Dates changed your opinion of Walruses.

"Ummm, can we not talk about that?" you snap at her, when you catch people looking at you like you actually did sound like a walrus on the seashore.

"Especially when the females are in heat—"

"MARIA!!!!"

Oh, she is gonna get it.

Guess who's going to get locked out of her room tonight…

"Oh look! It's a bird!" she declares out of the blue, her finger shooting out to point.

And you, very clever you, knowing very well that birds just don't fly into the gym, you turned to look. And duh Olivia, no bird. You turn back and surprise, surprise… no Maria.

No Maria but…

"Duke!" you squeak out. What? Did Mickey Mouse have you possessed or something? What was with the squeaking?!

"Olivia!" he exclaims, jumping back, equally surprised. The action gave you a good view of him in his full glory.

Not exactly his full glory. But close enough.

He looked like a gladiator or something, sporting a chest plate, a shield, a sword and a…

_Skirt?_

Wait a minute, Duke Orsino, captain of the soccer team, wearing a skirt?

God, why is that _so _hard to digest?

"You look…" you start, trying to look for an adjective that involved promoting masculinity even though said epitome of the male species was wearing a skirt.

You realize that you need to polish up your social skills. Specifically, the 'find the appropriate adjective' one, the skill in which a debutante retains her social etiquette by drawing attention to the minor misgivings of a companion, in a mild, and jolly way where the companion in company will never know that he/she was insulted.

Wait! You could feel it come back! You felt like you've finally found the word!

"…nice"

What Olivia? Nice?

The best you could come up with? And no, you can't blame Sebastian for your rapidly decreasing IQ anymore!

Duke blushes at the easy comment (that you had difficulty forming!). You're reminded of Bashful, one of the seven dwarves in Snow White. Who knew that Mr. Orsino could turn into three different shades of red?

"Errr… You too."

You had to give yourself some credit. You mean, 'You look nice' sounded so much better than something like 'You too.'

It goes dark all of a sudden. You feel this momentary fear that you might fall over. Okay, even if it was dark, the lights might suddenly turn on and you on the floor (once again) isn't that flattering unless Sebastian was on top of you.

Because in that case, you wouldn't mind if the rest of the student body thought that Sebastian couldn't help tackling you to the floor in a rush of mad passion. Whatever, a girl can dream…

A slow song starts playing and then multi-colored lights follow, illuminating the whole gym.

Oh, lookie here. Eunice is making out with something besides her hand. Your memory takes you back to the time when the both of you first met.

Let's just say that you never want to shake hands with her again.

Ever.

Wait! Is that… Toby?

Soccer Toby?

Hmmm, Sebastian must have taught him a thing or two.

Eunice and Toby, playing tonsil-hockey in the middle of the dance floor.

Man, miracles do happen. You wouldn't be surprised if a Unicorn came charging in, waving its mane all horse-like and stuff and its horn will sparkle in the spotlight. That'd be super-fab!

Ooooh, that could be a good Mane n' Tail commercial. No! You were a Herbal Essences loyalist! You weren't planning to commit any form of treason anytime soon.

But this was good. This was great.

At least you weren't the one who kick-starts the "let's all just make-out!" outbreak.

And you know very well why that was so.

Olivia Lennox does not make out with the first hot guy she sees.

That was Olivia Lennox _last_ year.

Anyway, your 'hot' standards were high (at least you think they were).

And college boys are **so** over-rated.

Besides, even though you were practically after him, Sebastian was sure worth the night's wait.

And this dance you still owe Duke.

Woah! Did you just see a flash of some tongue-action there?!

God, this was worse than any Discovery Channel Animal Sex Special you've ever seen.

Including the ones Maria has seen, which meant _The Walruses Out of the Waters._

You turn to look at Duke.

As expected, he was gawking at them with his jaw dropped.

You didn't want Duke catching any flies with his mouth hanging open like that.

He could get a disease and die or something.

That would be a perfect waste of boy.

Then a new song starts playing…

_**She smiles in a big way**_

_**A way a girl like that smiles**_

_**When the world was hers**_

_**And she held your eyes**_

Dashboard Confessional, Dusk and Summer.

Nice slow song. Sad, but nice.

You could so relate to the song. Except that Sebastian was like… a guy.

Okay, you admit that he was a bit on the feminine side, but he was still a guy nonetheless.

His innocent stare makes you wanna strip down to your underwear. And until that happens, you will be wearing Victoria's Secret everyday.

So, in conclusion, he's like, totally… a guy.

(Readers and author share knowing smirks)

Going straight to the point, this would also be a perfect waste of a song if Duke and you aren't going to dance to it.

"Hey, Duke." You call, waking him out of the nightmare, unless he considered it a fantasy, which would be totally gross…

His mouth shuts close. "Hmmm?"

You wanted to laugh because he was so pale, like he saw death…

You look back at the scene and even though the place was dimly lit, you could still see Eunice grabbing Toby's ass…ets.

_Death… Or something really, really close._

You never felt this particular need to gouge your eyes out before.

Turning away in disgust, you face Duke again.

"So… How about that dance?" You ask, trying to wipe that bad mental image from your memory.

He takes another look at the kindred spirits getting it down and dirty on the dance floor for the last time and he cringes.

"Yeah, now would be a pretty good time." He says, probably incinerating what he saw with his powerful mind furnace! It probably set most of the things he learned in Advanced Chemistry on fire… or maybe not. Duke didn't seem to be that much of a dumb jock.

But you wish you had one, a mind furnace…

Oh wait, you already had one. And it christens itself: Sebastian.

Then Duke tentatively puts his arms around your waist then you snap back to your senses and put your hands on his shoulders.

Hey, it's a _real_ breastplate! It wasn't plastic or anything. You could actually feel the cold metal of it.

So, for the most part of your dance with Duke, you were thinking about how cold your fingers were. Gosh, then Duke must be freezing…

The next three minutes were left for you to ponder upon the coldness of Duke's costume, looking everywhere but right in front of you.

…**After three minutes...**

Yep, still cold.

No, _colder. _Definitely colder.

_**You've already lost when you only had**_

_**Barely enough… of her to hang on**_

As the song faded away, you take your hands off of the icy chest plate of doom.

His hands were on you waist.

You look up at him expectantly.

And then the imaginary light bulb floating above his head did an Einstein and lit up.

"Oh yeah… I forgot, my dance with you was only one song's worth." He reminded himself, laughing a little at his antics.

His hands: _still _on your waist.

"Duke…" you say in a slightly foreboding tone.

"Right!" and he lets you go, shaking his head in embarrassment.

Considering the situation and all, there was something you just had to ask Duke.

"Is Sebastian—"

And Duke cuts you off to say:

"_**Do you like Cheese?"**_

He asks that, completely out of the blue. Wait, understatement. It was more like, completely out of the friggin' _rainbow_.

Real edgy, Duke.

Silence. Except for some weird, techno, background music. You were guessing Malcolm had something to do with that. You look for the DJ.

Yep, she was being harassed by Malcolm in a Superman suit. You know… the one with the fake, bulging muscles.

Oh God.

Sights like that shouldn't even be put on the face of the earth.

And sometimes the gift of sight isn't always a gift.

Someone with irrevocable beauty, such as yourself, would have no problem being spotted in a crowd. But when someone, like Malcolm for instance, is the person who spots you…

Well, that's when it's already a problem.

Uh-oh, disaster! This was getting too weird, or maybe it was just the techno music?

_**I see you through your window…**_

_**As I'm standing on a tree outside**_

And the gift of sound has chosen to vandalize itself too. He recorded his dumb song?

That is _so_ gay. Akin to George Michael…

No Malcolm, I am not going to wake you up before I go, go…

One thing was clear… your hair was absolutely gorgeous tonight.

Well, that _and_ the fact that you had to jet.

Duke was already frowning because of the said platinum piece of crap. And the rest of the school? Well, they stopped whatever they were doing because the song was _that_ powerful. Like, you could hear crickets already… Oh, that was just Eunice and Toby kissing.

Holy Shizzle, you so did not want to talk to him. Especially with Duke around, Malcolm might even be crazy enough to get Duke through the roof. Duke and the roof. A big no-no.

"Duke?"

"Hmmm?" he leans in closer, you blame the techno music.

"I have to go."

"Thanks for the dance by the way." You whisper in his ear, leaning back to flash him your mega-watt smile which achieved its objective: he was smiling like a new-born, baby dork.

"Oh— Uh. Sure." He says, sort of unsure of himself.

You 180 your cute little angel ass around. Maybe if you walk away now, Malcolm wouldn't be able to get to you. Maybe the crowd will trample him to serious injury because he looks so unnatural in a Superman suit.

Besides, he would just kill your brain cells faster than normal. Sebastian was already conducting a major genocide in your head. And he wasn't even at the dance yet.

Okay, you are almost at the ladies' room. If you could just get your damn heels in there…

Someone taps your shoulder. Busted.

Just pretend that you didn't feel that. And walk faster. What were you, impaired or something? You were sure that you weren't carrying _that_ much extra weight.

But all that red and blue jumped its way to the front, and soon, you were face-to-face with who you now acknowledge as 'SUPERFAG'.

"A pleasant evening, Olivia. Would you care for some refreshment?" he invites in his usual 'polite-but-internally-sleazy' way.

Hey, it was only excusable to talk like you were in a medieval movie if you were a Stratford Junior League Debutante.

And Malcolm, well, no junior leaguer in her right mind would even allow him to pose in a group photo. That's just… **sick**.

"That'll be unnecessary, Malcolm". Your tone, super-annoyed.

"But I insist—" he obviously… insists?

"No."

"Maybe just one glass?"

Ugh! Do you have to bring cheerleaders in and let them spell that out for him with their bodies?

Hey, when you think of it, it's actually a pretty nice— NO, you are NOT bringing in cheerleaders!

_Can you just fuck off, you fag?_

Olivia Lennox and swearing in public just don't go together. You were dressed as an angel for Christ's sake! You could at least _play_ the part…

So, in Debutante Linggo, you say: "Go away, Malcolm!", trying in vain to get away from him as modestly as possible.

Okay, not as catty. But hopefully, that should do. Then you side-step and pick up your pace.

"Olivia—" he goes, all high-pitched.

And then he grabs you by the arm.

So that didn't work out…

Modesty sucks. You should've gone with the 'eff off, you fag!' line.

Seriously, he was so persistent tonight.

"Lady Olivia, thy lips are dying to feel thou. Grant thee this one wish!"

Shakespeare doesn't work on me, boy.

He puckers his lips and lunges himself at you.

Sexual harassment, anyone? Oh, shit… Your life is over!

"Let go Malcolm!" you whimper, trying to shove him off of you.

God, he's so close. You wanted to cry then and there. Malcolm was going to kiss you. And it's your fault because you don't work out that much so you can't push him away with your pathetic biceps.

And runny mascara is going to make you look so broke-down… Crying is not an option!

He leans in and tries to catch your lips. You pull our face away in utter disgust and somehow, his nose lands on your neck. You can feel his streams of breath, sending bad chills down your spine.

Then he lets his tongue loose, licking your collar like a psycho. You try to scream but you couldn't.

Maybe it was okay to cry now…

You shut your eyes. You did not want to see him while he did those things to you. You didn't want to see him at all again, ever.

Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Did they not find it unusual that Malcolm was doing ghastly things to Olivia?

Ironic as it seemed, you needed to be rescued from Superman.

"Hey, Clark." You hear a voice say and suddenly Malcolm came flying off of you.

"I'm not Clark!" Malcolm whines, his feet dancing a few feet above the floor, while a masked guy in a tuxedo holds him with both hands by the collar of his cape.

"I meant you, Superman." The masked guys growls coolly, and then he slams Malcolm against the nearest wall with a force that you could only see in movies, or like… in the O.C.

Malcolm bangs his head against the wall and the impact must've caused him to say, rather dumbly, "I swear I'm not Clark. It's me, Malcolm! Malcolm Festes! Clark, he must've left early. You know, he might've took the whole 'same costume thing' pretty hard… Don't hurt me."

The masked guy let out a little laugh and said, "Speaking of pretty hard, how hard do you reckon this is?"

"What is—"

WHACK!!

Obviously, the guy in the tuxedo doesn't let Malcolm finish that question by giving Superfag a well-deserved and well-placed hit to the face. It sounded like breakfast cereal, you know… crunchy. And that tells you, something must've cracked.

Ohhh, is that Malcolm's nose bleeding? Yes, it is. You don't know why you feel very satisfied seeing him like that. Oh right, he tried to push his tongue down your throat. Jerk.

You watch as his back slides down the wall until his ass hits the floor. His head hung in defeat… and because he got bitch-slapped.

Mr. Mystery squats down to his level and says in his oh-so-smooth voice:

"Piece of advice, if you ever go near her the next time around, I swear you'll never be able to get up to do that again."

You feel like a Disney Princess all of a sudden, with a masked prince charming defending your honor. How preschool could you get?

Malcolm, bleeding like the Niagara Falls, looks up at the masked guy and nods as fast as his head could allow him.

"By the way, Clark Kent _is_ Superman, dumbass. You make me sick." He says spitefully at Malcolm.

Hey, maybe he'd even spit at Malcolm. Nah, you don't want to see this perfect guy spitting like a cheap, greasy hobo on the street. Even if it was going to be Malcolm he spat on. Na-ah.

"Now do us all a favor, get out of here."

Ten seconds and Malcolm was GONE.

Then hot masked guy gets up and does what any other guy in a tuxedo who just got out of a fight would do: he brushes off unseen dirt, gives his suit two nice tugs (one short and soft, the second fast and hard), and finally, he fixes his tie ( pull left, pull right, it falls center).

Can a mute say '_abso-fucking-lutely perfect_'?

Hell, neither could you because you were like… speechless…

You mean… his hair was still perfect!

Well, it looks a little messed up, but nevertheless, it was still windsweptly (the word should be created as a tribute to him) **godly**

_**I am a man who will fight for your honor**_

_**I'll be the hero you've been dreaming of**_

And the DJ, who wasn't being annoyed by Malcolm anymore, hits the mood spot on!

Chicago was the only way to go, go!

Masked hottie makes his way to you and for a second there, you thought he was going to grab you into his arms and kiss the lights out of you.

That didn't happen.

Because actually, it went like this:

He walks up to you, and being the total gentleman he is, asks, "You okay?"

Your heels were killing you, Duke asked you if you liked cheese after a very boring dance, Malcolm just traumatized you for life, what else?

Oh, and you were totally falling for the guy in front of you.

"I'm okay." You smile at him.

And he returns it with his classic grin. You thank God that his mask didn't cover his mouth… and his eyes. Because, you know, if it did, you totally didn't have an excuse for ripping it off his face.

'Your mask is covering your über-gorgeous face so it has to be taken off' did not sound like a very good reason at all. Nope, na-ah.

"Did he hurt you?"

You could practically see the blue-green through the holes of his mask as they examine you intently.

Intently…

Oh my God! Your hair!!!

You must've looked hideous.

"Let's just say that it wasn't as badly as you hurt him." You say playfully and he lets out a little laugh at that.

"Actually, my hand hurts a little…" he confesses, observing the knuckles of his right hand.

"But I have to admit, that felt great. I mean, I've never punched anybody before…" he realizes.

You find yourself smiling because he was going to start talking non-stop in his 'Hastingsly' cute way.

Wrestling Commentator Voice: Let's get ready to… RAMBLE!

"…_never thought about doing things like that—" _

Awww, he was so friggin' cute.

"…_It was just that Malcolm spiked the punch—"_

And you, at the moment were…

"_he tried to get you drunk— are you sure that you're fine?"_

NOT.

"Um, Sebastian?"

He stops, mid-dialogue.

"Oh sorry, I'm rambling." He apologizes sheepishly.

"Yeah, I've noticed." You tell him.

His face falls.

"But honestly, I love listening. You're like Seth Cohen… except for the part where you did a Ryan Atwood on Malcolm." You assure him good-naturedly.

"But you're _way_ cuter."

Okay, did you just say that? What the hell Olivia?!

Then the smile creeps back to his lips. He actually kind of looks… smitten?

Alright Lennox! You're in the zone! Score!

Props to you and your amazing pick-up lines. They really work!

Even when you were probably looking like the thirty-year old prostitute with the angel costume in _Can't Hardly Wait._

Which reminded you:

"it's just that I kind of need to use the ladies' room."

"Sure. Yeah, I think I need to comb my hair too. My hairdresser worked so long—"

He stops again, realizing what he said.

Okay, so he goes to a hairdresser.

Where do you find those kinds of guys?

Outside Principle Gold's office, that's where. And you weren't even looking…

Speaking of outside, outside the girls' bathroom, right at the entrance, you were surprised to see that Sebastian was still by your side, about to walk in and all.

You give him an amused look.

He gives a questioning one, right back at you.

You don't even bother to break the 'look-fest' as you look at the sign on the bathroom door.

Sebastian follows your gaze until his eyes are also resting on the sign.

He stares at it a while until it finally dawned on him.

"_Right_, I am **not** a girl." He states, smacking himself on the head in the process.

Right you are, Mr. Hastings. Apparently, you are _not _a girl.

Would you be head over two-inch heels, in love with him if he was?

_**insignificant bathroom scene because Viola can't be there to join in on the fun **_

When you walked out of the ladies' room, you felt fabulous again.

Partly because you did indeed _look_ fabulous and partly because you had your leading man outside waiting for you.

"Did I take too long?" you ask him worriedly.

"The only thing you took was my attention." He answers with his smirk that could power five US sates.

Oooh, he's good. Damn him and his charm…

"Wow, the only thing I can say right now is… I don't know what to say." You say honestly.

Then you hear the familiar drum and bass beat of that oh so famous Fall Out Boy song.

"Well, great. Cause' you don't have to say anything right now. It's time to dance!" he takes you by the hand and leads you to the dance floor.

_**She says she's no good with words but I'm worse**_

_**Barely stuttered out the joke of a grown man**_

He stops and notices the coincidence.

"Dance, dance" he turns around to add.

"Man, the DJ is so spot on!"

Your thoughts exactly.

_**Dance, dance!**_

_**We're falling apart to half-time**_

_**Dance, dance!**_

_**These are the lives you'd love to lead**_

****

_**Three minutes of dorky dancing(done mostly by Sebastian) later**_

Your faces were flushed from the dancing and the laughing.

Actually, Sebastian danced. And you just laughed your _ass_ off.

You try to stand straight to regain some air.

Breathing hard, you catch his eye.

He was breathing hard too.

There was something about the simultaneous rise and fall of your chests that somehow made the DJ play a slow song again. It was like she and you had an affinity or something, with her playing the right music at the right time.

Perhaps it was because you have both been pestered by Malcolm and that has created some sort of cosmic bond between the both of you.

_**Passed out in our school clothes**_

_**So we wake up in our Sunday's best**_

_**I never asked for your opinion**_

_**I just got it. And I get it**_

You've never heard this one before. You catch Sebastian listening intently, concentrating on the song.

"Hey, I know this." He muses, grabbing your hand for the second time that night.

"My brother—" he stops, and he gently pulls you closer to him.

"_I_—_"_ he corrects himself, "—have this on my playlist." He explains.

His hand is not in yours anymore and you try to switch your attention to what he was saying… instead of the feel of his hands, which you now realize, were already on your waist.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

_**We move slow like daytime drama**_

_**And I'm boring like his songs**_

_**So while I'm taking you for granted**_

_**We'll be humming along**_

Your hands move to his shoulders and they're stiff there. Then the both of you start to sway and get lost in the rhythm.

Damn brain, and it chooses to abandon you now?

You keep your head down. Your knees were going so weak. You know, one look in his eyes and you're dead.

You still managed to step on his toes even though your gaze was plastered to the floor.

He winces a little, and you apologize to his face, then he swears he's okay by smiling it off.

Okay, now, you were officially… dead.

Sebastian, if you feel sorry for your feet, stop being so makeout-able!

****

_**Well cross my heart and hope to  
I'm lying just to keep you here  
So reckless, oh (so reckless)  
So thoughtless (so thoughtless)  
So jealous  
I could care less  
**_

"It's by Taking Back Sunday" his voice, raspy. He was as nervous as you were. But now that you were finally looking at him, he decided to say something.

You wonder how that band got their name. You also wonedered if he'd be okay with you wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's it called?" You breathe out in a whisper, and your arms slowly snaked themselves around him.

He inhales deeply, and you panic a little. But then he eases into you, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

_**So let us pray (we don't believe in)  
So let us pray (second chances)**_

"Slowdance On The Inside." He answers, barely audible, eyes trying to read you.

Despite getting lost along the way, his hands meet each other at the small of your back.

You start to hear your heart pounding in your chest. It almost drowns out the music.

The both of you are pressed against each other, so intimately close.

_**Don't you ask me  
and don't you lose**_

_**(I win)  
**_

Close enough to smell his aftershave again.

It was _still _fruity.

Everything goes hazy and your thoughts are all scattered in your head, appearing and disappearing in and out of a huge cloud inside.

Smelling him, only makes the situation worse. Or better, because you were starting to like the scent of his neck since you, sometime during the dance, rested your head on his shoulder.

_**Well cross my heart and hope to...  
I'm lying just to keep you here  
I'll keep you here  
I'll keep you here **_

He doesn't smell like any other boy you knew, he didn't look like any boy you knew either.

All you knew, was that he was the only boy you wanted to smell and look at for forever.

And all you wanted to know is what this boy here, tasted like.

_**Well one of us never did it, but were taking it all  
And tell me why you never promised that you wanted it all  
And though her eyes never batted when she said it  
It's a long night, open, know it all**_

His lips were soft like you expected them to be. At first, he froze and leaned back a little in surprise. But like the time he eased into your arms before, he did the same into your mouth too. And damn, he was a good kisser.

_**This glass house is burning down  
You light the match, I'll stick around  
**_

He pulls away quickly, shaking his head in disbelief. Through his mask, you could see a sea of regrets and mistakes flooding into his blue-green pools.

"Sebastian, I—" you start to apologize, not knowing exactly what to say to explain why you suddenly shoved your tongue down his very-platonic throat.

"I have to go." He says softly, and finally.

_**I'll give you everything you want  
And wish the worst on what I was **_

You don't know why you just stood there and watched as he walked away.

So much for the 'just friends' plan, eh? You're such a conniving bitch.

At this point, 'just friends' was the best thing that could happen to you.

And it is as if the chances of that are like… finding a pair Chanel boots, 75 percent off, and in your size.

You were left there again, on the brink of collapse and breakdown.

Where was a swivel chair when you needed it?

__

_**Tonight won't make a difference**_

_**  
Tonight won't make a difference**_

You lick your lips to try to taste him again.

Lipgloss, Strawberry.

**……**

Strange.

You swear you used vanilla tonight.

__

Tonight won't make a difference… 

**-end-**

**2****ND ****AUTHOR' S NOTE:**

So how do you guys like this one? It was long to compensate for lack of an update. Was it worth the months of waiting? Well, I hope it was, I tried to squeeze every bit of my genius (if you can call it that) into this chapter and I'm practically brain dead right now. Oh, and check out my Gossip Girl fic!

_- doble D Cervantes_


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